(Quick warning! For those who have yet to play this sublime adventure, there are many spoilers ahead. You have been warned!)

A while back, I wrote about The Legend of Zelda series and discussed the games I thought were the most essential. Objectively, I stuck to the popular view that A Link to the Past and The Ocarina of Time were the best places to start. But on a more subjective level, I think there’s no greater gem than Link’s Awakening, a Game Boy title now over twenty years old.

I recently replayed this classic (the GB Color version, technically) on my 3DS, gaining two powerful insights as a result. First, the game remains as fun and captivating as any modern 2-D Zelda title. And second, its existentialist story still fascinates in a manner unique to the series—despite the flat 1993 localization.

This second point is what got me thinking. Link’s Awakening was conceived during a time when Nintendo of America’s localization department was still maturing, and when most titles were more premise than plot. “Stopping the bad guy” or “saving the girl” were about as deep as games got in those days. In fact, Awakening contains what is possibly the most complex storyline NOA had yet encountered—a plot that explored themes of love and regret, the nature of reality, and even facets of utilitarian philosophy. NOA, of course, had to somehow retain these ideas in its localization while still producing an adventure that was not too heavy-handed. The end result favored the whimsical side of the equation, providing players with a quirky, imaginative tale still framed by an aura of mystery. Ultimately, it was a fine adventure, and yet…it could have been so much more.

For those not familiar with Awakening’s story, here’s a quick recap: Link washes up unconscious on a mysterious island after his ship is destroyed in a terrible storm. He’s rescued by the exquisite Marin, a cheerful, dreamy-eyed girl who bears a striking resemblance to Zelda. After she nurses him back to health, Link sets out to explore his new surroundings. He soon meets a mysterious old owl who tells him about the “Wind Fish,” a mystical creature slumbering inside a giant egg seated high in the mountains. To leave the island, Link learns, he will have to awaken this creature by attaining The Eight Instruments of the Sirens—musical instruments hidden deep within the land’s treacherous dungeons. But completing this task might come at a terrible price; should the Wind Fish awaken, the entire island, including the lovely Marin, could simply cease to be.

Link and Marin's relationship is among the deepest ever explored in a Zelda title.

Even by modern standards, the plot is fairly complex and raises some difficult questions. What is Link’s true purpose on the island? Should he trust this “owl” and blindly follow what the animal says? Will the island really disappear if the Wind Fish awakens? If so, is that really the outcome Link wants? Does Link have the right to enact such a directive to begin with? Are these islanders mere illusions, or might they actually be alive in some sense? What does that make Marin? Is Link himself real? What would happen if he simply left the Wind Fish to its slumber and remained on the island?

Sadly, these intriguing dilemmas receive little more than a cursory glance throughout the story, relegating much of the soul-searching and moral wrangling to the player’s own imagination. Indeed, even the game’s final scene seems to betray the very pathos it fostered earlier—having just watched the island fade out of existence, Link is shown stranded back at sea, smiling in wonder as the Wind Fish soars away overhead. But would the hero really be so jolly in light of having just snuffed out an entire civilization? Wouldn’t he be mourning the loss of all those colorful individuals he let fade away, especially his sweet Marin? And even if it was all just a dream, wouldn’t Link still feel some sense of sadness or regret? Doubt or conflict? Unfortunately, the ending leaves these stark ramifications unexplored, forcing a happy conclusion over what should be, at least, a bittersweet one.

This finale—expressed solely through the power of imagery and sound—at least suggests NOA isn’t fully to blame for perhaps subduing the game’s more poignant themes via a diluted translation. But it begs the question: Why did Nintendo, on both sides of the Pacific, sidestep the game’s finer ambiguities and meanings? The answer may be as simple as Nintendo deeming “kids” unable to understand or appreciate the more potent qualities of the tale. Nevertheless, this missed opportunity for literary excellence seems downright sinful by today’s standards.

But here’s the fix to set things right—Nintendo, why not take your excellent engine from A Link Between Worlds and remake Link’s Awakening into the modern masterpiece it deserves to be, with a greater emphasis on character development and consequence? Instead of just showing Link and Marin hanging out in a couple of fleeting scenes, make her an indelible, unforgettable part of the story. Make her our girlfriend. Make us squirm and sweat each time we acquire another instrument and thus come closer to perhaps banishing her away forever. Make us second guess ourselves. Tempt us to give up. Convince us to search for another way. To run away. To side with the villain. To curse and distrust that damned owl. And then, as the finale unfolds, show us the consequences of our actions.

Will we smile, relieved we chose right?

Or shudder, realizing we chose wrong?

Or will we simply purse our lips and hope to God (or the Goddesses) we did all that could be expected?

A long time ago, I wrote a blog discussing six games I thought were worth playing despite their lousy reputations. Here are five more that, despite poor reviews or bad word of mouth, are actually pretty good.

Pac-Man and the Ghostly Adventures—PS3, Xbox 360, Wii U

Based on Pac’s relatively new cartoon show of the same name, Ghostly Adventures sees the titular hero running and jumping through a colorful world not unlike the Pac-Man World trilogy from years ago. Unfortunately, the gaming press barely acknowledged its existence at the time—a shame considering the game’s distinctive art, likable characters, and fun, fast-paced levels. For his part, Pac-Man can acquire a number of exotic powers and abilities by chomping down on the appropriate power berry—a reimagining of the iconic power pellet of old. Each “superpower,” from fireball hurling to bouncing across walls, is fun and adds to the game’s wide palette of things to do. A competitive multiplayer mode and some quirky mini-games round out the package rather nicely.

Pac's world is filled with sprawling sights and locales, with some snazzy art work to boot.

That’s not to say the game doesn’t deserve some criticism, of course. The opening world is rather blah, the camera can be annoying, and anyone not familiar with the cartoon will likely find the story inscrutable. But for anyone looking for a decent 3-D platformer that’s not Mario and company, this one’s the ticket.

Ehrgeiz—PSOne

Once upon a time there was a company called Squaresoft, and along with some great RPGs, it also produced a number of titles that strayed far into other genres, from the superb shooter Einhander to the cutesy kart-racer Chocobo Racing. And then there was Erhgeiz, a quirky, free-roaming fighter considered notable only for its inclusion of Cloud Strife and a few other Final Fantasy notables. Indeed, the game was criticized upon release for its sloppy gameplay and brain-dead AI. Nevertheless, the game’s graphics are startlingly good (using the PSOne’s high-res mode), its extra modes are entertaining (namely the Diablo-esque quest mode that’s essentially a game onto itself), and the multi-player fighting feels much like an early precursor to Capcom’s later Powerstone. Worth investigating.

Metroid: Other M—Wii

After the highly regarded Metroid Prime series ran its course, Nintendo developed Other M. On paper, the game should have been a wide success—high production values, intense action, and a third-person perspective that helped realign the series with its 2-D roots. And yet fans turned on this game in droves.

Why? The story seems to be the main culprit, with some feeling it saddled Samus with too much emotional baggage and made her too deferential to authority. Of course, Samus was never more than a thinly written avatar to begin with, with much of her “personality” presupposed by eager fans.

Otherwise, only a somewhat clunky set of controls deters Other M from must-play status, meaning that anyone wanting some fast-paced action fused with a little adventure should still give this one a shot.

Mario Pinball Land—Game Boy Advance

At first glance, the game looks amazing, with beautiful, prerendered sprites that seem to pop impossibly from the GBA’s modest screen. But critics were harsh, claiming the game’s boards were too cramped and sloppily construed, the physics wonky and difficult to manage, and the entire premise basically ludicrous (Mario gets transformed into a ball so he can save Princess Peach, who’s been launched, in ball form, into Bowser’s castle). And there’s definitely some truth to those sentiments.

But in fairness, the game never tries to be anything but a whimsical, surreal (and thus unrealistic) take on pinball, with Mario ricocheting into mushrooms and koopas, knocking over switches and plowing through pyramids and ghost houses alike. And while some stars (needed to unlock later areas similar to Mario 64) are difficult to acquire, enough are attainable to allow anyone eventual access to the final boss.

Unfortunately, that final boss is among the most frustrating encounters ever devised in a game, but perhaps that is best left for another blog.

Pac-Pix—Nintendo DS

While never truly scorned, Pac Pix was an early DS game that didn’t get much appreciation. With the DS itself portrayed as a magical book, the game is all about drawing “pac-men” across the pages. If properly depicted, these Pac facsimiles will then spring to life and gobble up ghosts also patrolling the page. An odd premise, indeed, but fun all the same, and one of the few ideas at the time that took significant advantage of the system’s touch screen. The ability to draw other objects comes in later levels, including arrows to trigger switches and bombs to stun ghosts. Mix these mechanics with some distinctive cartoon art and catchy music, and the game almost transcends itself to become something both addictive and sublime.

The game's art tends to be better than the player's.

But perhaps the premise proved too unconventional for the average gamer. Perhaps the game proved too frustrating for those with an unskilled hand. Whatever the reason, the game can still be had for cheap over at Amazon right now. So why not snag a copy, eh? Better late than never.

Whether good, bad or somewhere in-between, many games never get the attention they deserve, living in the shadow of more prominent releases. But gamers can help by seeking out those overlooked titles themselves.

Because, just maybe, there’s an undiscovered classic out there waiting to be shared with the world.

Just stopped by the Atari Age website--the place to be if you're into old-school, homebrew goodness!--and discovered a quick feature on Retro, a new gaming magazine looking for funding on Kickstarter.

For those who don't know, Kickstarter.com is THE place indie developers go when trying to fund an artistic endeavor that extends outside their financial reach. Basically, Kickstarter provides the indie a platform with which to describe and advertise its project to like-minded, potentially interested individuals. The visitor can then decide whether to "donate" his/her money to the company's cause, often receiving rewards in the form of digital downloads and collectible swag if the donation is generous enough.

Long story short, a new magazine centered on retro gaming--hence the title, Retro--is being pitched on Kickstarter right now as I write this. It has a mere eight days left (as of 10/26) to reach its $50,000 minumum goal; the total currently sits just shy of $38,000. And as in typical Kickstarter fashion, if the minimum is not reached by deadline, the money goes back to the donors, thus dooming the magazine in the process.

And that would be a shame, for the men and women behind the initiative are trusted industry veterans who truly understand the medium. A few, such as Jeremy Parish and Bob Mackey, will be instantly recognizable to fans of 1UP, but the list is still stacked with many other respected figures, from Leonard Herman and Keith Robinson to Chris Kohler and Ed Semrad (original founder of EGM).

So, if anyone has a few bucks to spare, this is probably as worthy a cause as anything. Here's a look at one of the promo pages:

For any of you creative types out there, be grateful you live in the 21st century. Thanks to the advent of the Internet and social media, artists of all stripes now have an unprecedented amount of opportunity to express themselves to the world. Money, connections, and even a higher education are no longer needed—the artist just needs to grab the instrument or device of his choice and create the masterpiece of his dreams. Follow that up with a quick upload to the appropriate site on the Web, and fame is just a click away.

Well, maybe it isn’t quite that easy—with artists of all kinds looking for an audience, one’s work can easily be overlooked amid the countless submissions contributed daily to Youtube, Blogspot, The App Store and the like. I’ve experienced this firsthand with my own work; I’m a writer who has spent the last year crafting a novel. It’s not easy work—the amount of discipline required just to complete the thing was enormous—but sadly, finishing the book was just the beginning of my difficulties.

Upon completion, I was faced with the same question other artists then ask themselves: “Now what?” Be it a book, film, or video game, the work in question isn’t just going to publish itself and amass an instant following. In my case, I knew going the traditional publisher route was probably a needless waste of time. The big companies—e.g. Random House, Penguin, Bantam Books—are notorious for only printing the works of established writers, and the smaller presses aren’t much better. Was it worth the long process of submitting innumerable query letters, sample chapters, copies of my manuscript, and so forth to all these various entities, only to wait months for those inevitable rejection slips?

Fifteen years ago, the aspiring writer had little recourse but to follow this routine; rejection meant simply shelving the manuscript or, just maybe, finding a local printing press to mass produce the book (at great monetary expense). The second course of action would mean paying for the printing of thousands of copies that would have to be stored somewhere, and then peddled out to potential customers book by book. No, the second option also left a lot to be desired.

Fortunately, the last ten years have seen the rise in POD, or “Print-on-Demand” publishers, who not only help small-time, “indie” authors convert their manuscripts into actual books, but also provide the editing, art, and other services expected of a professional distributor. The idea is that, instead of mass producing thousands of books at once, a copy will only be printed when a purchase has been made. This keeps overhead costs extremely low for both the author and publisher, and still means a quality book for the buyer.

Essentially a fantasy for teens (especially those of the female persuasion), my publisher produced a suitably ethereal cover that captures the mystical vibe of the story.

For example, I chose CreateSpace to be my publisher. A subsidiary of Amazon.com, I worked with a team to convert my story, Miyu’s Wish, into a professionally constructed novel, even employing an editor and cover artist to ensure the book was pristine on every level. Indeed, the writing is polished to the extreme, the interior design looks excellent, and the cover connotes a suitably magical vibe (the story leans towards the fantasy genre). The book has since gone live on Amazon.com where anyone can easily purchase it—once the order is made, CreateSpace prints out the appropriate number of copies via its POD printer, and the book is then shipped out to the buyer. I receive a decent royalty, Amazon makes its cut, and the customer receives a quality book in a timely matter. Couldn’t be easier.

Of course, POD publishing isn’t for everyone—unless the author is rich, getting word out that his/her book even exists can be a real challenge. But when compared to the alternative of not getting published at all, self-publishing (as some call it) is a valid course to take, with some authors even finding themselves on best-seller lists over the course of time. Most don’t, of course, but at least both the hope and possibility are there.

As for my book, feel free to check it out on Amazon, where both physical and Kindle editions reside. It concerns a hapless guy who, after wishing for a better life, vanishes into the night, never to be seen again. The book then shifts to a girl, named Miyu (pronounced “mew”), who is living an essentially perfect life. But a mysterious boy is invading her dreams, asking her to “return.” Who is he, and what does he really want? What will happen to Miyu if she honors his request?

And I’ll leave it at that—feel free to check out my website at www.miyumoon.com for more info! Also, for any aspiring writer looking for tips or advice, or who simply want to share their own experiences, don’t be afraid to contact me here or on my website. We writers have to stick together.

Incidentally, my book will be FREE tomorrow on 9/12/2013.Yes, if you have a Kindle or tablet with the Kindle app installed, my book can be had and viewed for nothing! So visit Amazon sometime tomorrow to snag a copy!

The video game hobby is one loved by all, right? Not exactly. Violence, anti-social behavior, obesity—within certain circles, video games are blamed and hated for many things.

But while the ornery parents and opportunistic politicians are obnoxious, the worst of these smear merchants could well be the feminists, who love to potshot the hobby from a number of angles. Games don’t feature enough strong female characters. Games represent women in compromising ways. Games don’t cater enough to the female crowd. And so goes the rant.

Some of these complaints, however, are based on beliefs that are simply erroneous or greatly exaggerated, and gamers of all stripes should be aware of them. The most common are listed below.

Myth 1: Men and Women Play Games Almost on an Equal Basis

This misconception is bandied around a lot, and is usually backed by numerous statistics indicating that women play games nearly as much as men do. But watch out—this is only true insomuch that women love growing crops on Facebook or popping bubbles on their phones. In other words, these studies tend to include anything even remotely resembling a game, thus producing a set of skewed results favoring the view that women are being underrepresented by the hobby.

But for serious games, especially those within the action genre, female gamers truly are a distant minority. Don't believe me? Jump into any random multiplayer match of Halo, CoD—whatever—and count the number of women playing compared to men. I’d be shocked if you count more than one or two at any given round.

Myth 2: There Aren’t Enough Strong Female Characters in Games

Another oft-cited fallacy, games are actually drenched in tough, brash, feisty female stars. Ellie from Deep Space 2, Elizabeth from Bioshock Infinite, Kasumi from Mass Effect 2, Sheva from Resident Evil 5, Elena from Uncharted—nearly every big mainstream title (certain war games aside) features at least one strong, capable female serving in some capacity. In fact, there are too many of these superwomen—would it be so terrible if the girls of gaming weren't always so gung ho, and were maybe, dare I say it, kinder and gentler? But apparently such notions are passé. (Elizabeth being a notable exception; Kevin Levine really is a genius.)

Myth 3: Developers Have an Obligation to Feature More Female Leads

Feminists wail this mantra with striking regularity, but why should developers listen when their audience, as we’ve already established, is predominately male?

Because including more female leads will encourage more women to play games, someone will inevitably say.

But does anyone really think that having, say, a female God of War, is magically going to bring in droves of new female players? What it would do, however, is probably drive away some of the male crowd.

Myth 4: Tropes are Evil

There’s currently a video series circulating the Internet that takes great pleasure in listing all those terrible plot tropes games have long been known for. You know, all those times you were required to rescue the princess/a damsel/your sister, and other similar clichés. But beyond the uninspired storytelling, are these plot conceits really so bad?

Everyone needs a goal, and these tropes are just that—a reason to propel the player further into the experience. Think of them as Macguffins, or excuses to play. And because men—the hobby’s typical audience—have an inborn desire to explore and protect, it is thus only sensible to give them an archetypal role that they can quickly understand and agreeably fulfill.

Indeed, what guy hasn’t ever dreamed of saving a beautiful woman from danger? It’s in their genes, and by logical extension, only natural that these roles and desires would then manifest themselves in our entertainment. Put simply, these timeless tropes serve an invaluable function—to more greatly immerse the player into the experience. And that is perfectly fine.

Now before everyone comes at me with pitchforks, I don’t mean to suggest, of course, that the industry is perfect. More intelligent, complex female characters are always welcome—women do not have to be overly sexualized to be considered attractive and desirable. And attempts to draw more girls into the hobby are certainly commendable—if done properly with realistic expectations.

But like it or not, gaming has, and probably always will be, a predominately male hobby. And is this really so surprising? Men also gravitate more towards sports, cars, action films, and numerous other pursuits and interests, just like women tend to have their own preferences. In other words, men and women are not identical.

So the next time a game features a man tasked with rescuing his beloved wife from a band of evildoers, maybe we should cut the developers—and by extension, the male gamer—a little slack. Yeah, the story stinks, but isn't it nice to see a man so deeply devoted to his wife?